


catch a flame to my sentiment

by ophellos



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Enemies to Lovers, Firefighter Dean, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 04:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10846167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ophellos/pseuds/ophellos
Summary: Dean is all too aware that he’s standing there like an idiot with a piece of shit in his hands, ogling one of Sam’s neighbors that he definitely hates.





	catch a flame to my sentiment

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little oneshot.

Dean is not an animal person.

He doesn’t like dogs; he doesn’t like their slobbering mouths or their shedding coats or their loud barking. When Sam had called him excitedly from California to tell him that he adopted one of the poop monsters, Dean had rolled his eyes and told him that as long as he kept the thing away from him and out of his car, they’d be peachy.

And then somehow, when he picked up and moved to San Francisco to live in Sam’s guest bedroom, the job of walking the mangy mutt had gone to him.

Dean clips the leash on Bones’ collar, the dog’s tail going 60 mph and drool dripping from its mouth, pooling onto the floor. He wraps the leash around his knuckles twice—the golden retriever was strong and Dean had lost his grip on the dog more than once before adjusting to his forceful pull—and hits the sidewalk of the neighborhood.

He’s never fully adjusted to this life Sam is creating for himself. It’s just so different than the life he had always known; their youth was spent in dingy motel rooms and shitty bars.

Ignoring Dean’s inner turmoil, Bones quickly finds a nice patch of grass to shit in. Consequently, Dean has his plastic bag-covered hand wrapped around a fucking turd when he sees _him_.

He floats down the sidewalk, calm as can be, the smug bastard, with his fucking cat on a leash. Who walks their cat? Castiel fucking Novak, that’s who. If that wasn’t enough, Dean always feels that familiar tickle in his nose when Castiel is around. They never cross paths for long enough to send Dean into a full-blown allergy attack but even passing Castiel and his cat makes his nose start twitching. Dean notices with dismay the way Castiel’s running shirt is just a little too tight for his arms. That’s another thing—Castiel wears exercise clothes when he walks his cat, like he’s expecting to get a good workout in with an animal that meanders the entire way.

Dean is all too aware that he’s standing there like an idiot with a piece of shit in his hands, ogling one of Sam’s neighbors that he definitely hates. Because, again—who walks their cat?

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel calls. Before Dean can reply, Bones notices Castiel approaching and proceeds his own daily ritual of going batshit crazy at the sight of Castiel’s cat. Just another reason to hate Castiel: Bones gets loud and aggressive and Dean’s never completely gotten over his childhood fear of dogs.

Dean tugs on Bones’ leash as the dog tries to bound over to the two of them. “Down boy,” Dean commands. “Calm down.” Bones ignores him just like always and Castiel’s cat scrambles up Castiel’s pant legs and into his arms, piercing his swishing exercise pants with its claws. Castiel grimaces as the nails dig into his skin and settles his cat into his arms, eyeing Deam coldly as he passes on the sidewalk. “Can’t you control him?” he asks. “I’m tired of him terrorizing Francine every day.”

Yeah. Castiel named his ginger tabby _Francine_.

Dean scowls. “Sorry that my dog needs to piss,” he says. “It’s not like your cat can’t do that inside your house.”

“Exercise is important for cats,” Castiel says, not for the first time. “I walk her to keep her healthy and happy.”

“Whatever.” Dean’s motto when it comes to Castiel. He turns back towards Sam’s house. “Enjoy your walk,” he calls over his shoulder, laughing at the way Castiel frowns at him, because it’s all too much fun to piss Castiel off. 

 

Two weeks later, Dean has just dragged himself into the house after a 24 hour shift at the fire hall, when he spots it, stuck to the fridge with a bright magnet. He reads it quickly, frowning and then rips it off the fridge, sending the magnet flying. “What the hell is this?” he asks, shaking the letter at Sam, who looks up from his coffee.

“Oh,” Sam says, blinking sleepily. “Came in yesterday. Bones is too loud. We have to pay a fine.”

Dean shoves the letter down on the counter in front of Sam and points down at the names on the petition. “This asshole,” he says, pointing to Castiel Novak’s name, “is just—being an asshole. He knows Bones isn’t that loud, he just wants to walk his weirdo cat!”

Sam shrugs. “He’s allowed to walk his cat, Dean,” he says. “Plus there are four names on here, so it’s obviously a problem. We’ll just have to train Bones better.”

“Well they’re all assholes,” Dean says and then turns to the dog, lying on the floor under the table. “You’re perfect, Bones.”

“You hate Bones’ barking.” Sam says, amusement in his voice.

“Yeah, well I hate Castiel Novak more.” Dean says. “We should fight this.”

“No, Dean, I’m paying the fine,” Sam says and ignores Dean’s arguments otherwise.

Dean doesn’t see Castiel again until the next morning. When Castiel passes, calling out a greeting, Dean ignores him completely and does nothing to stop Bones’ barking..

“I see you got the notice,” Castiel says, suppressing a smile and switching the leash into his other hand as Francine weaves through his feet. “It’s nothing personal. I would just rather walk Francine in peace.”

“Nothing personal,” Dean repeats. “So you’re just a dick indiscriminately?” 

Castiel pauses for a second, glaring at him. “Yes,” he says finally. “I’ve been attending the Dean Winchester School of Assholery.”

Dean sputters but he probably deserved that and he can't manage to come up with a comeback. He turns around and manages to wrangle Bones back to their house.

 

Dean is in the middle of scrubbing the firehouse sink with bleach while Benny mops the floor and treating him to a tirade against the cat owner, when his boss walks in.

“Dean,” Chief Mills says. “Need you to go out for a cat rescue.”

“Fucking cats,” Dean says conspiratorially to Benny and then turns back to Jody. “You know I’m allergic to them,” he says and she shrugs. 

“Your brother is the one who called it in and we’re having a slow day so it’s yours,” she says and Dean immediately feels his stomach sinking. 

When he arrives on the scene ten minutes later, he finds that he is so woefully, frustratingly right. Sam stands with his arms crossed, gazing up into a tree and standing next to Castiel Novak, who is wringing his hands. 

“They sent _you_?” Castiel demands as soon as Dean steps out of the truck. It’s not a fire engine, but one of the smaller pickup trucks they use for smaller jobs. Castiel throws his hands up into the air. “My cat is never coming down,” he declares.

Dean rolls his eyes. “Don’t be a drama queen.”

“‘Don’t be a’—your dog chased Francine up a tree and you think I’m being dramatic? This is why I filed that petition!”

Sam winces next to Castiel. “It’s true, Dean,” he says. “Bones went nuts when he saw her and I lost grip on the leash.”

Dean sighs. “I’ll get her down,” he says seriously to Castiel, who he can see is anxious and upset under the anger. Castiel stares at him for a second, looking into his eyes to see whether he is genuinely taking this seriously and then he nods, deflating a little.

It ends up being easy as pie and Dean is relieved that he doesn’t have to fight with something he’s extremely allergic to. He sets up the ladder against the tree and climbs it. Francine cowers when he reaches for her but relaxes when he grabs the scruff of her neck and he climbs carefully back down. He sneezes a few times as he steps down the rungs and he prays he doesn’t sneeze violently enough to throw him off the ladder and murder both him and the cat.

There’s a small smattering of applause for the crowd of neighbors that have gathered. Dean has the sudden thought that this is the kind of cliché, heartwarming scene he had seen on TV as a child and expected to see in real life until his father had knocked that idea out of his head.

Dean deposits Francine triumphantly into Castiel’s arms and he looks away as Castiel buries his face into her fur and lets out a happy sigh. He doesn’t want to think about Castiel’s smile.

“Way to go, Dean!” Sam says and Dean rolls his eyes. “You’re like a community hero.”

“I wasn’t a hero when I was running into burning buildings?”

Sam just grins and claps Castiel on the shoulder. “Glad she’s okay, man,” he says.

“Yes,” Castiel says, looking up at Dean. “Thank you.”

Dean can feel himself blushing and he scratches the back of his head nervously. “It’s really not a big deal,” he says. “It’s my job.”

Sam apparently is determined to embarrass him because he says to Castiel, “My brother always goes above and beyond. Literally this time.”

Castiel freezes. “Wait, you’re brothers?” he says slowly, glancing between Dean and Sam and they turn to look at him.

“Yeah,” Dean says. “What did you think?”

Castiel turns his wide-eyed stare at Dean, arms still cradling Francine gently. “I thought you were a couple.”

Dean sputters and Sam laughs at loud. “Why does this always happen?” Dean moans, turning to Sam and then there’s a hand on his forearm and he turns back to Castiel.

“Dean,” Castiel says, voice intense. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

“What?” Dean says dumbly. “Wait…what? You hate me.”

“I hate your dog,” Castiel says eyes shining. “And I thought I hated a very attractive man who checks me out every morning despite being married.”

Dean flushes and very much wishes Sam wasn’t standing right next to him. Sam can apparently read minds now because his laughs awkwardly. “I gotta-uh,” he says. “I gotta go check on Bones,” and then he’s practically scrambling away from them to give them privacy, grinning like a madman. Dean will never hear the end to this.

“So?” Castiel says, wide eyed. “Let me take you out on a date to thank you ,” he says, shifting Francine in his arms.

Dean looks at Castiel, with his blue eyes and his broad shoulders and tan skin and permenant five o-clock shadow and his muscular legs poking out from under tight running shorts and he finds himself nodding vigorously.

Castiel smiles up at Dean. “Thank you again, Dean,” he says, glancing down at his cat. “Francine is very important to me and I’m very happy that you retrieved her safely.” As if on cue, Dean sneezes and Castiel grins widely, the bastard. “And I’m sorry for your allergies,” he adds, sounding not at all like he’s sorry. He turns around quickly and makes his way down the street towards his house, throwing one more glance over his shoulder at Dean as he goes.

Dean stands there for a second, unsure of what just happened and groaning when he realizes that he’s gonna have to go back and tell Benny about this and endure Benny’s merciless teasing about being right.

 

The next morning, the sun is just peeking up in the sky when Dean pulls into the driveway and climbs the stairs to the porch. He blinks at a figure who is seated in the porch swing and Castiel scrambles to stand. “Good morning, Dean,” he says. “How was your shift?”

“Uneventful,” Dean says, flashing a tired, but cocky smile and then he drops into the seat and Castiel reseats himself after a second of thinking. “Well,” Dean says, “I did have to save some kook’s cat from a tree.”

Castiel grins. “I’m sure the kook is eternally grateful.”

Their shoulders, hips and thighs are pressed together by the small seat and Dean is all too aware of every millimeter of him that is touching Castiel. From the stiff posture, he suspects that Castiel feels the same way.

There are a few minutes of silence where the two of them watch the sunrise before Castiel finally speaks. “Can I kiss you?” Castiel asks suddenly and Dean chokes, turning to see the other man with his eyes on Dean. His breath mingles with Dean’s breath.

“Yes,” Dean breathes and then Castiel’s hands are cupping Dean’s face and he’s kissing his lips so gently, and in his hands, Dean suddenly feels so fragile, like he didn’t realize how breakable his own heart was until someone touched him like this.

Castiel pulls back after a few seconds and they look at each other for a long moment. “Sorry my dog is an asshole,” Dean says finally.

Castiel gives him an amused look. “Just the dog?” he asks innocently.

Dean laughs despite himself. “Hey, you’re the one who took it to the home owners’ association. That makes you the dick in the situation. No one likes those people.”

Castiel rolls his eyes. “Your dog was terrorizing my cat,” he says. “She’s peeing all over my house in fear.”

Dean just hums in response but he does feel a little bad about it. He’s too tired to come up with a response and he shuffles down in the seat, letting his legs splay out and dropping his head to Castiel’s shoulder. Castiel is tense for an embarrassing moment but then he relaxes and he places a hand on Dean’s, interlocking their fingers. It’s gentle and Dean will be mortified when Sam exits the house for work but right now, he’s too content to care.


End file.
